Marius' diary
by Aifos di Cambri
Summary: Set after the HoO. cross with Amos Daragon of Bryan Perro: no one leaves Tratarus without changing...
1. Chapter 1

_**Hi guys, I know I should be working on my other stories but I couldn't resist tentation of writing this. Okey so it's going to be a kind of chaos ercy jackson story but really different, first of all chaos (who said he couldn't be a woman?) and the annoying blablabla little new camper.**_

_**I'm posting this to know your opinion so please tell me :)**_

* * *

I arrived at Camp Halfblood with the help of a satyr called Grover after spending half of my travel with a woman who changed my life fully and completely. When I reached this sanctuary for demigods it was the beginning of June. I was greeted by this Roman demigod Jason Grace, son of Jupiter and the daughter of Athena, Anabeth, who asked her brother Malcom to look after me.

Barely a week later I was claimed by Poseidon and something changed in the treatment I received from the other campers, they studied me from closer. It annoyed me…a lot; and then I started hearing his name: Percy, Percy Jackson, the savior of Olympus, the one who defeated Kronos last summer. The one who made Mt Helens explode two years ago; the son of Poseidon, my older brother, the one I always wished to have. The swordfighter. The arrogant loyal hero. The brother I always could take an example from. For a few months I was happy, I had a real goal, meet him, and be able to compare myself to him…

But I wasn't as good as him, at nine, I already had ghosts, ghosts that muttered cold icy words behind my back. Every time I held a sword I turned to meet her eyes, narrowed at me, disapproving and icy cold; so cold I let go my sword twice over my foot. I never understood what all this visions meant, visions because Malcom that was always next to me frowned every time I held my breath and stared at the empty shelves from where I had seen a small man wink at me as he created clouds out of thin air with a shall. Maybe for this incomprehensibility from my fellow camp mates I started keeping this diary where I could draw everything I saw, everything I couldn't explain to the others.

Otherwise my life wasn't really thrilling, I loved to sit close to the Athena cabin and ask Malcom to explain me everything he knew about Percy. He would laugh at my dark blue eyes that shone at the light of the fire tip as the others sang. He would point the top of the amphitheater and, away from the eyes of the others he would tell me stories of danger and adventure that I absorbed with thirst, convincing myself to not forget a word. All this time, I tried to don't take notice of Anabeth's faint smile as she studied us from the front of the stage. She was everything I could have asked for a leader, wise, quick-witted even when the loss of Percy was too heavy to carry; caring when I tried to comfort her, thought I had to admit I was a lost cause then. But she also understood. She ruffled my hair when I did, managed a sad grateful smile for me as she kissed my front head and sent me out of her working room to look out for Malcom, or Chiron, or Grover, when he was here. And I ran out a smile that illustrated the warmth I felt then. But then the day came, the day my life started to turn again, the day I lost my North.

24th of June, Leo Valdez finished the Argo II, Anabeth, him, Piper and Jason left under the encouraging cries of the campers and my excited ones of innocent child that didn't see the war that was about to start. I kept looking out at the sky, hoping to see the boat come back with Percy but the days passed and they didn't arrived, leading my positivism crest falling. I started to see visions again, more real; they were everywhere, under my bed, sleeping in my bunk at night. And I started to dream about him. Amos. My dreams started around him being 12. I saw him grow around the threatening world, dark and corrupted. Amos. The one that was leading a war against the gods. The one facing all odds with the only help of his few allies. I would wake up screaming, only to hear Tyson sleep over me. Shaking from fear I would go up into his bunk and manage to make some space for myself, next to the harpy that pecked at me, jealously.

Malcom didn't look calmer either. He smiled less; he was more infuriating; he would usually send me away claiming that I was annoying him, pushing me out. I trained alone, sad and lazily…until a voice would wake me from my misery and I would flee trying to find a welcoming embrace that would calm my sobs. That was when I met Hestia, to who I would cry my misery as she hold me against her chest, trying to make me tell her what was hurting me so much, but as much as I tried to speak her grey eyes would shush me and Hestia would frowned at my trembling finger as I pointed the White Lady that looked at me disapprovingly.

One night I was wandering, trying to keep my head down hoping to not meet another vision. Kicking that stone that was in front of my feet I arrived to Thalia's pine tree, and next to the guarding dragon, his eyes narrowed approvingly at me as I sat next to it, he put his head over my lap. I smiled at the contact of his warm coat, I laid my hand over its triangular face...I was taken by the visions again. A dragon appearing out of a girl's body, a sick looking one that broke out from a cave in a mountain, roaring and shooting fire in the twilight, a crying dragon, new born, left in a closed cave surrounded by a cursed treasure. I saw another dragon start to breath in a roaring ship on fire, the screaming body of a witch being consumed by the flames. I removed my hand from his head, my breath was trembling, my eyes were full of tears. And my sobs filled the air until a gentle hand made me realized that I wasn't alone. Chiron sat down next to me, with worried eyes. Under his silent request I told him everything, the White lady that claimed to be called Kaliah Blash, renamed Chaos by the gods; the visions that I seemed to be the only one to see, everything. I waited for him to laugh at me, instead he looked gravely at me before muttering:

"Don't let anyone find this out. Not even the gods should know, your life is already in much danger than any other demigod in this camp. When this war ends we'll try to find a way to arrange your problem."

"Which war?" Poor genuine child that I was, hoping to believe life was easy to all the others, fighting against my visions, thinking they were the only thing that should matter to me. Two days later the Twelfth Legion appeared in front of Camp Halfblood Hill, Octavian sent a messager asking us to surrender. He was sent back tied up and completely naked as we prepared for battle, ready to surround them as soon as we could, but I would give my arm to be twisted that this was the answer he wanted. We fought until nightfall, somehow I managed to stay next to Malcom and fight back, slashing my spear madly trying to survive, and that was when I found out my powers over the earth as thousands of small earthquakes were felt around the camp created by my complete and blind fear… Fear; gods, never have I've been so scared. That day, that morning I discovered the meaning of fear, a meaning that the bureaucracy has made disappear, creating an Iron-Wall between democracies and the dictatorships, a wall that implicates the incomprehensibility of us to them.

That night I could barely stand on my feet as my tears ran down my cheeks; in one day my childhood and my chances to grow up slowly and in the daylight of life had vanished. I stumped around the bodies, trying to help any living demigod remaining in the battle field. Malcom ran towards me telling me to go to the infirmary; shaking from exaustion I walked back to the big house. At the lights of the porch I saw the tip of my spear completely drenched in a red sticky liquid, a human blood. I was only nine and in the name of fear I had killed another demigod, the one that I would name Brother further on.

The next days were bloodshed. The Romans slowly won terrain and every night, the forest seemed more welcoming to me, suddenly enjoying more my visions than this reality...For now, I was the only Greek that had killed in this week. Malcom started to treat me differently as he saw me like this; that was when I first handed met war, diplomacy and strategy. Fighting against my sleep I started to understand this crazy and head taking strategies the children of Athena put in practice, giving a meaning to our exhausting actions throughout the day. We slept maybe only two hours per day but I got so used to it that when, maybe a month later we received a message from the Seven declaring a stop to the fighting...I didn't know if I had to take this like a relief or like a curse. Of course Octavian didn't respect _el alto al fuego_. Two hours later our blood was running again from our veins.

I will always remember this day. A week had to have passed by since Leo sent his message and Malcom and the others had decided to bring up a final battle. I was barely aware that it was a suicide before we got in position; the idea was to bring the Romans inside the forest as our archers would wait in there and slowly carry them towards Bunker 9 were the kids of Hephaestus were finishing to set a trap...We weren't so lucky, suddenly we found ourselves surrounded as the Romans had found a way to break through some of our defenses. That's when the carnage started. Rip, clash, scream, and thrust. Rip, clash, scream, thrust... It was a continuous rhythm, blinding that still made me discover other pits of horror and cruelty.

I never thought that at nine I would be able to run around the fighters putting small bombs inside their armors. I never thought I would be able to grab someone from behind and cut their neck wide open before stabbing them with my foot, breaking his rib-bones. And yet I did...gods I did it, and may I be cursed by it, may I be chased and punish, but my father never answered my prayers...and that was the worse punishment I could get: his silence.

Somebody pushed me down so roughly I couldn't breathe for a long time, when my vision came back I saw Malcom pushing someone as he ordered me to get to the Bunker and warn the others. But for once I didn't obey his orders, instead I grabbed my spear, the one the White Lady gave me before departing, and under his arm-pit I stabbed the Roman, hearing the satisfying sound of breaking bones...

There was a roar, we all stopped as from above the Argo II sailed down towards us the Seven and the Ambassador of Hades, Nico, my future great friend, descended a white flag flapping from the mast.

There was a judgment, a very long trial. Malcom somehow managed to hide the atrocities I had done which maybe was his worse mistake; I had to be punish, even if he said that he was responsible for the orders that were given, that I was a bit crazy and it wasn't my fault. Maybe it wasn't but I was lucid when I did, I knew what I had done, I knew why I should perish.

And because of it I caused the downfall of my beloved brother, Percy Jackson, my hero, my brother, the one for who I did my best, for who I fought as _they_ insulted his name. But I should have known as I dreamt about Amos when Enki threw him in Hell; I should have known that no-one leaves Tartarus without changing.


	2. Chapter 2

_My name is Marius. When I first heard the White Lady talk I never guessed what would happen next. I was 9, my mother had died in a car crash and my step father, a 29 years old man, consoled his pain in a bottle of wine._

_One day a man came to my house, telling me I had to accompany them. I didn't know what that meant, the only thing my mother had well instaured in my mind was to never trust a stranger. But when he said my stepfather was in the hospital and that he came from there… I didn't know what to do, I let him drag me, but something grew tide on my stomach, I kept glancing at him as if he was going to combust in any minute. He drove as if nothing happened, but something kept my alarm mode on, his radio wasn't giving any messages. The only thing that broke the silence was that reggeton song with something to do with a TACA-TA and women, yuck._

_He drove for hours, the city had disappeared and I was now frightened. To do everything worse I was peeing in my pants, I had never been so in need. The man looked back at me, giving me a lopsided smile that only served to confuse me more. "Need a stop, eh, kid? Hold on, we're getting there." He turned just in time to see a woman in the middle of the road "Oh, shit!" the lorry, skidded on the road for what felt like five ragging minutes. I found myself facing the floor as the door swung open and the man stepped outside, yelling furious: "Who the fuck do you think you are! For fuck's sake! You're in the middle of the road! Jesus, fucking Christ!" I stood up from the dusty floor and peaked out the window. The man was gesticulating in front of an old woman, near her eighties; her sad grey eyes looked vaguely at his furious arms that moved like branches rushing with the wind that suddenly seemed to pick up. When she spoke my blood froze. With only a mutter, brushing my face like silk and yet so hard and cold, so full of controlled power… It was like sipping a cup of hot chocolate, nice and comforting in the night and yet burning furiously your tongue, like a storm you watch from your house, the rain furiously banging against your protecting window, until it soaks your bones with those icy fingers that transpierce everything and don't understand the word: Frontier._

"_For a monster, you're not really shading in the mope." The man froze, his movement became harsher but with less control and suddenly it screamed, roaring in fear and pain. His skin started to burn, his body changed into an incomprehensible form. He turned trying to reach the car, stumbling like a blind, his eyes smoking with the coolness of ice. When he reached the open door his skin was falling to pieces at his feet, his muscles melted like butter under the sun. With horror I watched him succumb slowly and painfully under the calm and stern look of the woman in white, the air of the setting sun slowly emptying from his screams of agony._

_I felt something wet, hot and sticky ran along my legs, inside my trousers as I stared into her eyes. My breath caught in my throat as she approached my door. Instinctively I started to reach the other one to leave before she attacked me the same way she did with that man. Somebody grasped my arm. In horror I turned to face her. Her calm and sad eyes stared down at me. Her wrinkled face slowly breaking into a smile, gentle like the silent song of a river that washed my justified fears away._

"_Don't worry, Marius. Nothing is going to happen to you for now. "_

* * *

Nico and I marched inside his father's doors, leaving behind the cursed fields of Asphodel. I was 14 now, the Second Giant War had finished 5 years ago and still none of the Seven and Nico had managed to regain from their losses, especially Nico, Annabeth and Him, Perseus Jackson. I was in the Underworld under my father's request to bring some diplomatic messages. You see, he and Hades got really close after the two wars which, more or less, surprised the other Olympians; well, except for Athena, but no one seems to be able to surprise this goddess. I was his messager for my qualities as diplomatic and next to Piper I was one of the best Camp Jupiter and Camp Half-blood had to deal with this boring and heavy stuff. But as you can guess I wasn't only here for business. I had been looking for Percy for years now, every day I grow more desperate of having a chance to find him; every morning telling myself I'll find a clue and every day coming back with my tail between my legs. Since he vanished it was my personal and silent quest. Why, would you ask? Because I'm responsible of his disappearance and because I would give anything to make things be as they were before.

Nico had already told me he wasn't dead. But I needed to hear it from Death himself to accept it. The soldiers parted in our way, knowing both of us for too many voyages, opening the large dark doors that led to the throne room. We were met by the strange atmosphere that enveloped the Lord of the Dead, some kind of warmth, welcoming somehow, like temptation, like hope; and yet so cold and blind that it sent shivers down my spine. We bowed at the two immortals. Hades hadn't changed since the last time I saw him. He still had this aura, magnetizing and passionating, probably the characteristic Michelangelo would have had. His black hair fell like a curtain around his shoulders, marking that pale thin and angular face, brightening the shone of his black dead eyes that pierced me the same way they did the first time, bringing in me that fear that I bore as a ring, just as the burning scars in my back…just as the day I received them, the day that marked the beginning of my quest. Persephone, on the other side, had completely changed since the last few months I saw her up in Olympus, matching the ghostly figure of his husband in a more delicate and sweet form.

- Rise demigods. – Hades muttered. – Marius, what brings you here?

- My lord. – I said, producing a mid-bow. – My father has accepted your offer and he will be wishing to come to an agreement.

- Did you say a word to anyone else?

- No my lord. The secrets are safe.

- And why isn't my brother here?

- Lord Poseidon couldn't come today right away but he will be meeting you soon, I believe. – Hades' lips seemed to rise in the faint form of a smile.

- Sending the infantry first…Ah, Marius, you're always in the front line. – I nodded, holding back the creasing unpleasing feelings that tighten my throat. The words of that lady remaking surface in my memory: _"Never give without asking, child of Poseidon. It was my flaw to trust those gods full and completely. Without a second thought, __for a second I had my back turned, they corrupted this world and now you, humans and all other living creatures, are paying for their greediness of power. These wars are endless, Marius; and to secure themselves from me, their creator, what do they do? Cha__in me like a cow to the altar and see and suffer the destruction of my World! Don't ever trust these ungrateful gods, Marius. Never! "_ I never knew what that meant, never until now, never until the faint smirk of Hades appeared like the light that helped me find the surface of this tsunami.

* * *

Percy gasped as he managed to make surface, breathing deeply. By habit, half blinded by the effort he swam until he reached the rocks of the shore, throwing next to the smiling elemental, that looked at him with unexpressive and calmed eyes the price of this test.

- Well done, Percy. You're getting better. – Mékus mused as he offered him his hand to leave the lake; Thankful Percy took it and in a second he was out of the water.

- It still feels strange…to not be able to breathe in my domain. – Mékus snorted as he shook his head.

- Nothing belongs to no one, son of Poseidon, not even to the gods and the ether… the ether belongs to all of us, as does justice, loyalty and your beloved rationality.

- I know, you told me.

-Then remember it.

- You can't expect me to change something that has taken years to forge.

- No, but you can convince yourself that you're able to. – Percy sighed, Mékus was somebody difficult to hang around, especially for him; maybe Annabeth would've… He shook his head. He couldn't afford to remember her now. – But you shouldn't chase it away either. – Mékus looked down at him. – Live with it, that's what you have to do.

- I know, but… - He sighed in defeat. They stayed in silence watching the lake move slowly and calmly.

- Soon you will have to meet him.

- Amos?

- Yes, now that I remember, it hasn't even passed a year since I guided him. – Percy looked at him.

- Was his ether much different?

- Curiously enough no. You have both one common flaw: Loyalty, but he has learned to master it completely and his life shadows much darker secrets than yours. – Percy snorted; he couldn't really believe that part. He had been in Tartarus and from what he'd heard of this famous Amos Daragon he had only been in there a few hours, he had been trapped there for days and had left the prison of the gods alone. Amos had help, lots of help. – But he was alone. – Percy stared at him. – And you weren't, I recall. He was _saved_ a second before the crop of the Lethe touched his lips while you, had the best help you could ask for: the daughter of Athena and loyal friends that could help you in the world outside. Besides, you have only _been _in Tartarus and passed quickly the Underworld, he has travelled the 10 levels of Hell, alone and only helped by people with interests.

- Why does he need me, anyway?

- The gods, even weaken have send two monsters after him. Shortly they'll trap him. We need you to help his friends escape Hell as I go searching for someone to save him. You have been three times in the Underworld, you know part of it.

- But your Underwold is different.

- Not this time, they'll be the same. You'll see.

- How?

- This time you will see the world with different eyes, Percy. You will put your old way of looking with the one you have been developing these five years. And never forget, that we fight alone, use your whit and trust your instincts. – Percy nodded as he looked out at the lake.

- What is there at the other side? – Mékus laughed a delightful one.

- Ah, Percy, you're as impetuous as a racing horse. – He smirked.

- That's why I'm the child of the Horse creator. – Mékus gave him a comforting clap on his back.

- This afternoon we're crossing the lake, but first, let's rest for a while.

* * *

I walked out of the throne room, my hands shaking like leaves as I curled my fingers in a fist. I left the doors well behind of me; I passed Cerberus, the three-headed dog knowing that my dreams of Amos in his stage in Hell would calm my burning mind. Once this done I let go a sigh I didn't know I was holding letting it escape my lips like the dry sand of the red Sahara. I closed my eyes, forcing my muscles to drop, freeze, rest.

I heard footsteps of wolf behind my back; Nico stayed behind me in silence waiting for me to turn. Regaining my usual calm self I was known to have I slowly opened my eyes to let in the desolation that would fill my life after death, even if I decided to fight on her side.

- Marius. – He said finally. – You're not acting like your usual self. Is there something you would like to share? – I turned, forcing a smile that came too cold.

- Yes, but not here. I don't even think the dead can keep a reality like this. But I don't want to push you into this battle; my battle. – Nico's eyes flared with curiosity as he opened his eyes to speak. – You remember how they treated me, Nico. Seven lashes, Percy discredited. – I shook my head. – I don't want to put any one else into this story. I won't bear to see you pay for my acts. I will be the one to pay, never again, one of my friends. – I knew I convinced him… at least for now. – Besides, I need to speak to Thanatos.

- I already told you: he's not dead, I would have known!

- I know. Don't think I don't trust you. But he might be able to tell me places to look. Death knows its path better than anyone else. What a better way to confirm this but by asking the deity of Death himself?

_**Okay guys, I need to know what you think so please really, i know you know how much we love to recieve that little message that says: "new review". So**_**PLEASE_, I'm in my knees. Do it._**

**_Thank you, Aifos di Cambri - I know nothing about love. _**


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